


Oh, Good Morning

by Thelastpilot



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: M/M, and get used to saying good morning, and overthinking things, commuters who always see the same people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-25 19:42:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20729714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thelastpilot/pseuds/Thelastpilot
Summary: You get used to seeing people everyday, and you can never tell what all of them are thinking. You can never really tell if they put just as much thought into it as you do. Or if perhaps, they've never even noticed you. There's just no way to know unless someone says something.





	Oh, Good Morning

**Author's Note:**

> This story is not inherently connected to my other story "Oh, were you gonna finish that?" but they are based on the same concept approached with two different tones. Reading both provides a different experience but is not necessary.

‘Hey’

That’s all it would take, but it seemed completely insurmountable for some reason. It was the act of taking a distant stranger and maybe putting a name to his face and his commute and his odd jackets and his seemingly unflappable belief that cold weather was for other people. It would be crossing the street and taking some random guy firmly from the safety of anonymity and making him **someone **when Adrien had already gone to great lengths to make him someone else, someone too far away to embarrass himself in front of. 

Just some guy at the bus stop, behind a pane of glass, a café patio and two lanes of a street, waiting to go to work. Just like every single day for the past five months.

Yeah see that was another hurdle, how long its been, because now certainly it had been way too long for Adrien to do anything now when he hadn’t done anything before. Wouldn’t it break the routine now? For ‘that guy in the café’ to actually cross the street and say something to him like a person?

Adrien set his cup down a little rougher than he needed to, sighing in an entirely self-produced frustration.

He sat up, stretching his back against the wooden back of his usual chair, made bulky by his thick coat left hanging from it till he felt brave enough to go back out into the cold again (after the bus passed, obviously. He never left beforehand, which frustrated him, again.) His table and chair and coffee weren’t all really his but there was that silent agreement that came from a usual routine that the world kind of respected. Sometimes someone else might be in his seat but for the most part Adrien got to spend a few minutes every morning warming his hands on an okay cup of coffee before he went to work, sitting in the same chair in the corner next to the window facing the street.

He used this place because it had been the closest to his apartment, and because it was warm on the inside and on his way to the metro. And because the prices were fine… and because of a bus stop. Well that last part hadn’t really been a thing at first, not that it was anything really but it was a factor against Adrien trying the new coffee shop that had opened just below his apartment.

He had argued to himself that he liked his usual place, with the warm seats and the familiar smell of over-roasted coffee and the quiet hum of a radio left on in the back. It was a standard place that sometimes kept him fed or at least kept him awake, and the owner already knew his order so it was easier to just stay, probably.

Adrien looked down, pulling at his sweater a little as he moodily glared at his coffee. It was no better or worse than it usually was, but in the moment he kind of resented it for not being outstanding. If it had been a fantastic cup of coffee, the best cup of coffee in the city then he’d have a little bit more of a justification for always sitting right there, right near the window, with his great morning cup of coffee. It would be a reasonable way to start the day, instead of glancing out at the street, waiting for another habitual commuter to make his bus on time.

Adrien looked to his right, peering through the window and watching the foot traffic, annoyed with himself again. He was annoyed because he actually needed to be at work early today, but he _wasn’t _going as early as he could because he was actively _waiting _for him, which is what made this stupid. Just some guy he saw every morning. Smiling at and waving to him is one thing, but actually being late because of a guy he’s never even talked to? Pathetic.

…

Still hadn’t left though, he noticed.

Adrien glanced over the street, watching people in thick dark colored coats and scarves hurry to where they needed to be or cling to warm little shops like his. His café was more populated then usual this morning, some people just standing in the doorway for a minute to check their phones.

It wasn’t bitterly cold, it wasn’t snowing or anything, but the chill was still enough to make his okay cup of coffee a little more appealing. The streets were light and anyone around had a destination in mind, it was not the kind of morning for milling around.

It was a morning for commuters.

Adrien stopped, his eyes catching on someone as they turned the corner. He was looking down, but Adrien recognized the familiar backpack and leisurely walk right away, and he nearly smiled before he noticed the hoodie.

It was **cold**, but here he was again in a thin, dark grey hoodie like he always wore. It was one of his more usual items regardless of the weather, but he never adjusted. He didn’t even have a scarf, the only mark that maybe the cold was getting to him was that he had swapped his hat for a beanie, but Adrien was frowning anyways as the man made his way to the bus stop.

Adrien’s morning, nameless companion found his seat at around the same time he always did, every morning. He would show up at the stop about 10-15 minutes early, lounging on the bench by himself most of the time since the street itself was pretty small and they were far off from the center of the city, and then wait patiently for his bus to arrive so he could go, presumably to work. This was an assumption, as was everything else about him, seeing as Adrien had never actually spoken to the man. The only connection they ever had, was at about this time every morning,

Where he glanced up and across the street.

Adrien froze, a little caught out to have already been looking at him, like he had been waiting. But it was too late to glance away now, to play with his phone or drink his coffee to pretend he had otherwise been occupied. The man had already seen him.

The stranger smiled, his white teeth a stark contrast against his dark skin as he adjusted in his seat, moving his backpack to sit beside him as he usually did though he did not break eye contact. His dark rimmed glasses were low on his nose, and he pushed them up to maybe see him a little more clearly though there was a distance between them. Details were always lost, but Adrien could see that his hair was sort of a mess this morning, and he was entertained by the thought that maybe the switch to a deep red beanie was actually because his hair looked ridiculous, not because he was actually cold or anything.

He was a broad shouldered, tall man (fit too, as Adrien had learned when the weather was still warm), his outfits always changing but staying within the same range of simple t-shirts, jeans and ill-equipped jackets. He also always had his headphones on him, sometimes around his neck or sometimes already being listened to, playing some music genre that Adrien had to guess at, with no real clues or indications.

He always wondered anyways though, even if he could never know for sure if he was right or not.

Adrien lifted a hand to give him a small wave, smiling too as they greeted each other. The bus stop guy gave him a wave as well, settling in to wait now.

Adrien knew he only had a few more seconds to drag it out if he wanted to, knowing that once he glanced away they would return to their own spaces. So before he could, Adrien gestured down, raising an eyebrow (a small enough expression that he wasn’t sure if it would read across the street) and then he reached behind him, drawing the mans attention to Adrien’s own warm jacket.

It was small and quick as Adrien kept smiling, but it was easy to ask without words ‘What are you wearing? Aren’t you cold?’

The man paused, looking surprised before glancing down, one hand pulling at the pocket of his hoodie before he looked up, shrugging, both hands up as if to say, ‘I don’t know, its fine.’

Adrien just shook his head, taking a sip of his okay coffee and was happy to see the man laugh. He couldn’t help but smile into his cup as he watched him.

He was surprised to see that the man kept watching him too for a moment, still looking his way as he took an extended drink. A few cars passed between them, the street cold and distant and filled with other people they might have seen every day. Maybe all these dark jackets and blank faces were also daily commuters, ducking into cafes and businesses and making this street as much their space as anyone else’s, but neither of them knew for sure.

They’d never paid attention to the others before.

Adrien only realized he was stuck in the moment when the man finally glanced away, looking down at his phone. It occurred to him that he should probably look away as well, turning towards the interior of the café without really seeing it, frustration steeping again as he realized his daily ‘conversation’ was now over.

That’s what he waited for? A smile and a wave hello, a point of contact shallower than small talk. But he would rather he had it then gone early; he knew that.

He fought the urge to sink into his chair, knowing the man could still see him if he looked up (which he did sometimes), but he couldn’t help but lean over his cup a little, staring down at it. He tried to talk himself out of harassing himself, and he also tried to talk himself out of getting so attached to a familiar stranger, but neither ever got him to move.

He was frustrated by a handful of things about all this

He was annoyed by the fact that this was about the best he ever seemed to do when it came to meeting people these days. A non-negative association at a great distance with very little risk, how exciting. He used to be more social, so he thought, a little better at making friends and putting himself out there. But after a few scattered heartbreaks and a handful of missteps he found himself staring at a dark, slowly cooling cup of coffee wondering at how bad he was at this. He liked to think he was bold enough to cross the street, to finally put a name to a handsome face and maybe say something charming.

Maybe buy him a cup of coffee, maybe ask what he did for a living.

Maybe, maybe, maybe. But no, never. Least, not for about five months in a row now.

He grit his teeth, looking in at the café counter, looking in towards the tables and the decorations and the few dirty plates people had left behind. He looked in, and away, and then out the window, his expression still heavy as he hardly made it a minute without looking.

And he froze again, the man already watching him.

Adrien stiffened, noticing immediately that the man wasn’t smiling. A car passed between them, but neither of them took the opportunity to look elsewhere, and Adrien was stunned to see the man make a gesture of his own.

He pointed forward, right at Adrien across the street and across the patio and through the pane of glass, still looking at him with an expression too subtle to see from this far. And then he touched his index finger and his thumb together in a circle, the other fingers fanning out above it, the message clear and simple.

‘You okay?’

Adrien was frozen stock still as he took in the question, and the concern that came along with it. He must have been obvious, his spiraling thoughts displayed in his posture somehow… and the man noticed. He must have been staring the entire time, not having lost the silent conversation Adrien had been mourning, holding on to it still and waiting for him to look up again.

To make eye contact so he could ask.

Adrien felt his face heat up as he gripped his coffee cup tighter, embarrassed suddenly and unsure of himself but not looking away, the man tilting his head just slightly, waiting for an answer of some kind. But it wasn’t something he could or even would try and pantomime in these weird distant talks they had, to explain what even? It was nothing, but the familiar stranger still asked, and still stared, even as another car darted between them and blocked their eyeline.

He had to admit it was sort of exciting, which was exponentially more pathetic and insane. Being even remotely delighted that the man reached out again just made this dumb exercise even worse, but he accepted that he was just too invested to ignore him.

So after a long, silent moment, as all their moments were, he shrugged. Exaggerated enough for the man to see, but his annoyance with himself forced his eyes down, and the moment ended.

He didn’t look up again, sighing so heavily that it sent a ripple across the surface of his coffee.

Maybe he was being hard on himself, but the fact that a handsome stranger’s concern was the closest thing to an intimate moment he had had in two years was a little discouraging. And it was just the kind of cold, lonely morning for that sort of thing. Overanalyzing everything over an okay cup of coffee.

He closed his eyes and sighed again, running a hand through his hair as he let the chilly morning finally claim his mood. His early start at work slipped steadily away and he committed to loitering, though he wondered if the man was staring still. Over the next three or so minutes he resisted the urge to peek, feeling a little too much like a loser to allow his little morning routine, but his resolve wavered at about the fourth minute. By then he had reasoned with himself that oh well, you’re already lame, just look. The difference a minute could make.

When he glanced up his heart sank a little, confusion filling the empty space on the bench. Adrien sat up a little and scanned the street, the man’s seat unexpectedly vacant despite the fact that…

Surely the bus hadn’t come. He always heard it, the bus wasn’t exactly quiet, especially not on such a little street. Honestly it was a miracle it even came down this way, holding up everything whenever it did, but of course he was grateful that it was there. It was never a very crowded bus and obviously not a very popular line, but that’s where the stranger sat. So he liked that it was there.

His moping couldn’t have drowned that out, but still the man was gone.

He stared at the spot unabashedly now, looking around for him and wondering where he went. To work, maybe, as he should do. But didn’t.

The cafe door opening sent an uncomfortable rush of cold air into the space, all of its higher-than-average volume of patrons leaning away from it moodily, not that Adrien looked. He had settled the weight of his head on one hand, staring out vacantly towards an old, empty bus stop. He lifted his cup and took a long drink, resolving to leave once it was finished, when quite suddenly, out of nowhere, there was a tap on his shoulder.

Adrien jumped a little, not expecting someone from the outside world to come breaking into his, cup still half raised to his lips as he turned. The first thing he saw was a hoodie, having not nailed the eyeline on the first glance. He still wasn’t quite up to the persons face by the time they started apologizing, their voice deep and a little nervous sounding as they laughed through their “Sorry! Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Adrien was staring at his face as the tall stranger continued to ramble, as if the momentum of his sentence gave him no place to stop and the words would bunch up and fall apart if he hesitated. The stranger mussed with his hair as he did, displacing his deep red beanie. It was old, Adrien noticed. With a snag near the edge.

He wondered when that might have happened. Or had it always been there, and he had been too far away to notice.

“I know that maybe this is a little weird,” the man was saying, the unexpected bass tone to his voice rattling pieces of Adrien’s mental image and sorting others into place. “Maybe I’m breaking some like cardinal rule like, you’re never really supposed to engage you’re just supposed to exist like, parallel to each other forever and you never say much. Or anything. But I don’t know maybe I’m not maybe there is no rule and I just made that up cause I overthink a lot. And I know it’s sort of simple and I know I’m gonna like, miss my bus, but you seemed kind of down and um…,” the stranger paused,

and Adrien noticed for the first time that his eyes… were nearly gold.

He laughed, just a little, and like nearly an afterthought, like introducing himself seemed unnecessarily to someone he _really _didn’t know but had just become so familiar, he gave an awkward little smile.

“Well uh, hey.”

And just a little out of breath, just a little.

He said, “Hey.”

_It’s you._


End file.
